


internal wound

by kitaaa



Category: SEVENTEEN - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BEST FRIENDS MY ASS, M/M, One-Sided Love, Pining, because i love seeing my faves suffer, oh and also pain, so much pain, so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7510308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitaaa/pseuds/kitaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times jeon wonwoo punishes himself for loving kim mingyu, and one time he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Papercuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure the first 2 chapters suck nut and are unoriginal and annoying because i wrote them 2 years ago (not guaranteeing my writing has got any better by now tho lol)
> 
> all in all this story is very not good pls read with that in mind so u dont roast me to death with ur (probably very valid) criticisms ;_;

Wonwoo shouldn't be so hurt by what's he's just seen, but he is anyway.

Mingyu. And another trainee.

Sitting on his lap. Holding his hand. Touching his hair.

She grabs his face between her hands and whispers something in his ear, meant only for the two of them. Something unpleasant settles in his stomach at the way Mingyu laughs, the bright sound dancing above the blaring stereo.

Bristling, Wonwoo watches as Mingyu's eyes go all liquid-y and tender, clouded with the kind of dopey look he only ever reserves for the girls he _really_ likes, and Wonwoo is surprised at the burst of bitterness inside of him.

_Since when does he care what Mingyu does?_

It's so annoying the way he's been so hyperaware of Mingyu lately, his voice finding its way into Wonwoo's ears at unexpected moments, his face floating into his thoughts in that loud, intrusive way of his, Wonwoo's eyes following him everywhere he goes, searing an invisible path within his line of sight, even in a crowded room.

He's had girlfriends before. It's not like he doesn't understand the breathless excitement of a first love, the thrill of being unable to keep your hands off each other for more than second.

Besides, technically he was still Mingyu's hyung by two years (even though that idiot joked around him with anything but respect), so why doesn't he feel more glad for his little brother?

_Why doesn't he feel like Mingyu is his little brother?_

Wonwoo's eyes dart back to that corner, unable to help himself. His heart drops for a millisecond when Mingyu ducks down to plant a shy kiss on the girl's forehead, the sudden bravery of a middle-school boy fizzling out before daring to go any further.

The girl grins, a beam split across her face like a crescent moon, and for one wild, insanely absurd moment, Wonwoo is overcome with jealousy.

"-woo? Wonwoo? Wonwoo!" 

"Huh? What?"

The world has gone dark. The tips of Jeonghan's hair brush over his eyes, blocking his vision for a moment, as he finds the long-haired boy leaning over him from behind, regarding him with a weird stare.

"I said, do you want a drink? You look positively purple." The elder's face is undeniably handsome even when upside down. "It's not an attractive look."

Wonwoo quickly glances over at the mirrored wall and widens his eyes in surprise. He didn't even realise he'd been holding his breath for this long.

Jeonghan doesn't know what's going on inside Wonwoo's head, and he doesn't ask. "It's mango juice, fresh from the fridge," he offers encouragingly, nudging the cup towards him.

Exhaling, Wonwoo draws out the hot air from between his lips, and his whole body deflates. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

Wonwoo hasn't even said anything, but Jeonghan's sharp. He's probably noticed. Or maybe the pained expression on his face was more obvious than his usually stone-cold exterior gave away.

"I-um, I remember the first time I had a crush on a girl," Jeonghan coughed, fiddling with the plastic cup in his fingers. He laughed cockily. "It was the first time I'd ever found someone as good looking as me. She always wore this lilac dress that I thought made her the prettiest person alive."

Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow, confused as to why Jeonghan is telling him this pointless story, but lets him carry on anyway, if only to distract himself from the uncomfortable, spiky sensation he can't stop feeling.

"Anyway, I swore I was in love with her. I'm pretty sure I only learned how to sing so I could serenade her with an awful ballad I'd written myself. We went out for like, only 2 months, but I'm pretty sure we thought we were the modern day Romeo and Juliet or something.

That was, what, 8, 9, years ago? Christ, I don't even remember her name anymore. All I remember is that purple dress, and it didn't even look that nice anyway. Can't have been more than 10 dollars." He stops, considering, and adds an afterthought. "Pink would have suited her much better."

He's trying to help. Jeonghan, in his own not-so-sentimental way, understands and saves Wonwoo the shame of adressing the issue out loud.

Maybe, Wonwoo hopes in vain, Jeonghan thinks he likes the girl. Not Mingyu. Maybe he hasn't caught on.

But he looks again into Jeonghan's deep, knowing eyes, and all pretense dissolves away. Jeonghan's sharp. Sharper than anyone else Wonwoo knows. Behind the constant hair flips, checking himself out in the mirror and napping in any available pocket of time outside of training, there's a universal intelligence to Jeonghan that sometimes Wonwoo wishes he had.

Jeonghan knows how to keep himself from getting hurt.

It seems that's all Wonwoo ever does to himself.

"Thanks, hyung." Wonwoo smiles, strangely grateful.

"Ah. Yeah. It's okay." Jeonghan says, then stands up in a flash when he catches the others rifling through his bag before Wonwoo can add anything else, leaving him alone to simmer in his thoughts some more. "Hey! Dokyeom! I told you not to touch my lunch, you overfed asshole!" Jeonghan glances his shoulder, offering a last awkwardly wise reassurance. "Love is much more...temporary than you would think."

Love?

It takes only an instant before the word comes into full effect. Blood rushes to Wonwoo's head. Everything comes crashing down all at once, sudden, scary, sneaky.

What does love have to do with any of this?

A pitter-patter of footsteps approaches and though Wonwoo doesn't look, he can smell a mix of cherry bodyspray and an over-enthuastic amount of Axe. He hears a trail of hushed giggles and just knows the two of them are probably stealing off to some dark cupboard or the shaded back of a building to go flirt some more.

It shouldn't hurt, but it does. 

_Since when does he care what Mingyu does?_

_Since always._

If it's to do with Mingyu, always.

The realisation shoots into Wonwoo with fiery violence and sets off something burning furiously in his chest.

Is this what's he known deep down all along, but refused to admit?

He's in love with Kim Mingyu.

He's in love with his best friend, his _brother_ , and now's he forced to sit there, motionless, watching said best friend slip out of the door giggling and holding hands with someone that's not him.

A buzz of conversation from the other trainees filters in and out of the air around him, but Wonwoo can't hear anything except the ringing in his ears.

He fights the swelling urge to race out of the practice room after him, clenching his fists so hard the nails slice into his palms. He sits there silently instead, every second waiting for Mingyu to return feeling like another sharp prick under his skin.

_Love is...so much more temporary than you would think._

Now the reassurance just sounds hollow. In his mind, Jeonghan's voice sounds tinny and false.

It doesn't matter whether Mingyu's infatuation for this girl soon fades, because after that there'll be another, equally as charming and beautiful, then another, then another, then another one after that.

It doesn't matter whether love is temporary because Wonwoo isn't a beautiful girl. Wonwoo isn't even beautiful. He's a boy, and Mingyu's a boy, and for him, love isn't even an option.

He sits there and lets the realisation sink in a second time: slower, softer, more lethal.

He's in love with his best friend, and it will be the end of him.


	2. Scrapes

Mingyu's had so many girlfriends before and this has happened so many times already but Wonwoo still can't help the lump rising in his throat as his best friend races into his bedroom one night, ranting excitedly about his latest date.

"Wonwoo, you asshole, are you listening?!" Mingyu's voice yells from what sounds like very far away, pulling him out of the pity party in his head and back to reality.

His eyes are bright, hair messy, hands flying, what he's always like when he's in a good mood.

Wonwoo should be happy for him.

He's not.

"Jieqiong invited me to take her out this weekend. _Me_. Not Jeonghan, or Jisoo, or even Seungcheol, like everyone thought she would!"

He lets out a triumphant whoop, shoving Wonwoo over and falling back on the bed with a gleeful bounce. He turns to Wonwoo, who still hasn't said anything (he doesn't think he can, to be honest), and clamps his hand on his best friend's shoulders, shaking him until he can feel his heart rattling against his ribs, echoing hollow. "I'm going to go out with the prettiest girl in the whole agency!"

Wonwoo should be happy for him, yet he's not very convincing as he just stares blankly at the wall in front of him, humming in reply with a slight nod.

Mingyu does 't seem to notice. "The hottest girl at Pledis!" he exclaims in disbelief once more. He nudges Wonwoo, and he tries not to concentrate on the burning hot spot on his arm where their skin has made contact. "I mean I thought Junhui was just spouting some patriotic crap when he said the girls back in China are babes, but he was totally right."

Finally, finally, he turns around to face Wonwoo, grin dropping off his face immediately.

"Wonwoo?" Mingyu asks quietly, tilting his head.

He's so sick of this.

Wonwoo is exhausted after a long day of practicing endless dancing routines and singing so hard his bones are about to break, and he doesn't think he can handle a broken heart on top of that, too. He doesn't have it in him to pretend to be utterly overjoyed for his friend right now when that's the last thing he's feeling.

Before he can mutter out a pathetic attempt at congratulations like he usually does, or a last chance to save himself from the burst of anger that is about to erupt from his mouth, Wonwoo snaps coldly, "I don't particularly care."

The air around them suddenly tightens, and Wonwoo jerks his eyes away to focus on an object on the other side of the room before he has to look at the hurt expression that has undoubtedly made its way onto Mingyu's face.

A small, terrible, petty part of Wonwoo thinks, _Good. Let him be the one to hurt for once._

"Well," Mingyu replies stiffly, "Nice to know my best friend in the whole wide world is _so_ happy for me."

Wonwoo shouldn't take the bait. He really shouldn't, he should know better, keep his boiling jealousies to himself, but he can't help himself, not this time.

"Sorry I've finally gotten tired of learning which girl you've decided to foolishly fall over your own feet trying to impress this week," Wonwoo mutters, the sentence laced with more venom than he had meant it to.

Mingyu turns to face him, grabbing his arm. "Hey, what the hell's wrong with you today?" he asks, offense and anger all rolled up in one.

"Nothing," Wonwoo spits, trying to ignore the feeling of Mingyu's fingertips scorching into his wrist.

"It's always just nothing with you, isn't it? Can't you ever feel happy for me?" Mingyu says loudly, sounding so sorry for himself Wonwoo feels a flare of anger erupt inside him.

He roughly snatches his hand back to himself, disbelieving of what he's just heard. All he's ever tried to _do_ is make Mingyu happy! Trampling all over his own feelings, locking them all away and swallowing his stinging envy time and time and time again, just so he can let Mingyu keep ignorantly living on thinking everything is fine, so he can save their friendship from ruin just because of a stupid, fruitless, one-sided love.

Wonwoo stands up with alarming speed. "What's that supposed to mean?" he snarls savagely.

Mingyu gets on his own two feet and joins him, breathing heavy. His eyes level with Wonwoo's, narrowed into slits.

"It means," he growls, "that I can see right through you. You're always so insincere, so blunt. Every time I come over to tell you about my new girlfriend, my new crush, you look like someone has smacked you in the jaw."

Wonwoo can feel the wind getting knocked out of his lungs right now.

Mingyu steps closer, so they're only a few inches apart. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

Wonwoo's breath hitches, and he stumbles back, his mind spinning. There's no way. There's no way he could know. He'd kept his feelings hidden with great care - or so he'd thought. 

Could it really be? Had Mingyu known that Wonwoo loved him? For all these years? He braces himself, every muscle in his body contracting painfully, for what he's been avoiding for so long: the cruel, disgusted rejection.

He feels sick. There's a rotting pit in his chest that won't stop pulsing. It's been gnawing away at him for years, like a parasite hungry for a proper meal, and it might finally have a chance to devour Wonwoo whole. Even this argument is killing him; Wonwoo thinks he'll pass out if he has to live through the moment Mingyu decides he never wants to speak to him again.

"You're jealous of me, Wonwoo," Mingyu finally says, with some kind of savage triumph lighting his eyes.

As though he thinks this is Wonwoo's big secret, as though this is the great, deadly reveal that will have him falling on his knees in despair.

Wonwoo doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He sways on his feet. How ironic. Mingyu thinks Wonwoo wants them, not him. As though he would place those squealing, delicate girls in as high esteem as his silly best friend does.

His shoulders fall; suddenly he feels drained. Wonwoo slumps into the chair at his desk. "If only it were that easy," he smiles bitterly, the sudden change to calm in Wonwoo's expression confusing Mingyu.

Wonwoo should be happy for him.

"I'm sorry, Mingyu." Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair. He sighs, slowly pushing the words out. The right ones, this time. "I've been a jerk lately and I took it all out on you."

He forces a smile, all teeth, no bite. He lightly punches his best friend, ignoring the way he shivers as skin meets skin. "Have a great date with her. I mean it."

_No I don't._

Mingyu, so easy to forgive and forget, offers a wide grin in return. He accepts Wonwoo's apology with a quick hug and gushes on about his grand plans for the next 20 minutes while Wonwoo nods numbly every so often.

“Don’t worry, bro,” Mingyu winks as a last reassurance, “I hear a lot of girls are into the whole dark, brooding emo thing you’ve got going on.” Then he’s out of the door and skipping back to his room without a second glance, free of worries.

Wonwoo's heart, on the other hand, pounds so heavily it feels like a huge stone weighing him 

down,

down,

down.

 

-

 

When Mingyu goes out, arm-in-arm, with Jieqiong on Saturday, Wonwoo waves him off, as usual.

When Mingyu decides to pursue a relationship with her the day after, Wonwoo celebrates with him, as usual.

When Mingyu cries over his horrible, messy breakup the month after, Wonwoo is there to comfort him, as usual.

When Mingyu finds yet another girl to pour his blind, foolish affections to, as usual, Wonwoo prepares to get his heart broken all over again.


	3. Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fine dickheads u win i’ll pick up this story for u,,, my overwhelming total of approximately 3 (three) loyal fans,, because i love u guys and also attention uwu

The night Wonwoo finally debuts as part of _“charming new thirteen-piece boy group 'Seventeen’”_ , he feels like he may be blinded by all the glittering lights as he dances and sings his heart out on the stage.

The performance leaves him exhilirated and emotional to the very last note, his ears roaring long minutes after the song ends. Him and his crew take several nervous bows in front of the cheering audience before darting backstage one by one, every one of his members near-hysterical in celebration.

Seungcheol pulls them all into a group huddle, the grin on his face the happiest Wonwoo has ever seen their charistmatic leader. “This,” he announces proudly, “ _this_ is what we waited and worked and nearly damn killed ourselves for!”

The group agrees with a huge cheer of their own, before quiet befalls their circle and they look around at each other, eyes shining. “We made it,” Seungcheol whispers, voice wobbling.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “God, you’re all such crybabies,” he says, nudging Seungcheol in the shoulder, “especially you, our big tough leader,” but he gives himself away by sniffing neverthless.

They‘re herded outside by their manager, whooping openly now that they’re away from flashing cameras and judging eyes. Wonwoo trudges slowly behind them, giddy in his own, quiet way, wrapped in intense thought.

Everything right now seems like a dream; what he felt up there in the spotlight for even a brief moment had been greater than anything in his wildest dreams.

A warm hand claps on top of his shoulder in the middle of his starstruck reverie, and Wonwoo jumps.

He’s met with two upside-down chocolate-brown eyes and he’s so transfixed by them that it takes a second to realise Mingyu is leaning over him from behind.

”Hey, you okay?” he’s saying, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

Wonwoo blinks once or twice, snapping out of it. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little...overwhelmed, I guess. It’s hard to take in all at once,” he offers a smile, “overwhelmed, but happy though.”

Mingyu grins, his canines glinting in stark orange lamplight. “Yeah, Won, I totally get you. It’s surreal...10 more years of training still couldn’t have prepared me for the moment of, like, _actually_ being up there, ya know?”

Wonwoo nods in agreement, before Mingyu softly says, “And I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else by my side when it happened.” He shoots Wonwoo a sincere look, fang peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

After a split second silence, Wonwoo replies with a shaky laugh, “Same here, you sap.” He wonders if his face is burning as hot as it feels.

“Seriously though, I know you're lacking in the mental department but it scares me when you zone out like that,” Mingyu half-jokes, half-confesses.

”Oh shut up, says the guy who genuinely believed the Indiana Jones series were based on true stories until he was like - oh wait, you still believe that.”

”Th-there’s literally no proof that they _don’t_ exist!” Mingyu splutters indignantly, “Like, how else are all the sets and artifacts so detailed unless they had the _real thing_ to take inspiration from, and plus, all the weird cults and bible legends in the movies are real, so - hey, come back!”

Wonwoo is already speed-walking away from him, shaking his head in disbelief.

Mingyu’s long legs easily catch up to Wonwoo. The taller drapes a heavy arm around his shoulders, which Wonwoo responds with a half-assed “Ugh, get off, you weigh a ton!” (he really hopes Mingyu won’t), incessantly babbling his horrible movie logic whilst Wonwoo bluntly retorts until they reach the van parked on the side of the street.

Just as the two of them climb into the vehicle, Wonwoo thinks about how times like this will stay in him, sparkling and effervescent, until the day he dies: just him and the boy he loves, walking down the street, the air filled with casual conversation and his heart full to the brim with something incredibly warm.

 

-

 

The surprise party waiting for them at the karaoke bar after the showcase, is, weirdly enough, a huge surprise.

Technically, squeaky-clean rookie idols aren’t supposed to drink alcohol, but with their whole team of staff already itching to return to their own homes for the night, there’s no one exactly stopping them - except for Chan, of course. Jeonghan would rather shave off his precious head of locks than let Chan drink.

Anyone could testify that gatherings with deafening bass are not usually Wonwoo’s thing, he can’t help feeding off the raw energy lacing the room as he stands with the 12 other boys who have become his family, shouting and joking wildly. As far as he’s concerned, everyone else around them is irrelevant.

Before he knows it he’s downed more soju than the recommended weekly amount for a full grown men. For the first time in his life, he’s wasted - letting himself get roped into his team mates’ antics might have been a bad idea.

He’s still got his arm around both Soonyoung and Seokmin, swaying to the cheesy SNSD song blaring over the speaker, when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

Swivelling around drunkenly, he comes face-to-face with a girl who has the longest lashes he’s ever seen.

“Um. Hi.” She waggles a few fingers, the jewelled rings flashing.

She’s pretty. Very pretty.

“You’re prrretty,” Wonwoo remarks intelligently.

”Thank you, I’m flattered,” the girl smiles, with the smoothness of someone who’s practiced at taking compliments on a regular basis. She inches a little closer, and Wonwoo squints to try and readjust his vision. “You’re not too bad yourself. How about we get out of here and -“

He doesn’t quite hear the rest of the words that fall out of her rosy mouth after that sentence, but he gets the gist. One glance at that cocked brow and tilted head would have had guys running in from all directions.

“And the rest of the world praise Korean girls for their purity,” Wonwoo deadpans, the thought only occurring to him afterwards that what he said might’ve been rather rude.

The girl lets out a surprised laugh, and the fullness of it startles him. He thought it would’ve sounded like tinkling bells or something equally dainty, fit for girls like her who are made out of satin and rose petals and glass - totally Mingyu’s type.

”I can be a good girl if you want me to be,” she grins, the fingers wrapping around his arm suggesting the opposite.

Wonwoo jumps at the contact, unused to any sort of attention, let alone in a form so forthcoming. She slides her fingers upwards suggestively, and out of pure liquid panic he blurts, "I’m GAY!"

Well, at least that got her to freeze.

To be honest, he’d uncomfortably come to terms with his sexuality long ago, but the word still feels strange to spit out so - so _nakedly_.

_Oh god, he can’t believe he just came out of the closet to a total stranger._

The girl clamps down a firm hand on his mouth, ceasing his blabbering as several heads swivel in their general direction. Wonwoo wonders if she’s disgusted. Most people would be. Maybe rightly so.

But she’s _giggling_. Outright laughing, head thrown back and stumbling into him, unable to contain her mirth. Wonwoo thinks her laugh is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever heard.

”Wha’s so funny?” he demands.

”I just,” the girl wheezes, still pressing into his chest, “I can’t believe the one guy I’ve actually had a crush on for months turns out to be the only one I can’t have.”

”Then why are you laughing?” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle of his own without knowing why, her amusement contagious. Then he shakes his head, her face swimming before him. “Waiiit, what do you mean _months_?”

”Oh my god, Wonwoo,” the girl groans, sounding tortured. “I’ve been training for the same company as you for half a year and you still don’t recognise me? Do you even know my name?”

”Uhhh...” he says dumbly, too wasted to even bullshit a guess.

“Karma really bit my ass this time, huh,” she complains, “payback for being so far up my own behind.”

”Um, I’m sorry?” Wonwoo offers, taken aback by her cockiness - and her joking self-awareness of it.

She waves a hand. “No worries. I did have a weird premonition that you didn’t, um, swing that way.”

“Whyssat?”

”Well it also has something to do with the fact that you don’t know my name, and I’m betting you probably wouldn’t recognise the faces of half your fellow trainees, male or female,” she teases, “and it has a very big something to do with the fact that it’s probably because your gaze is permanently glued onto a certain, let’s say, Kim Mingyu?”

”W - why - _first of all_ , how dare you,” Wonwoo splutters, which she responds to only with a knowing smirk, “has it ever occured to that huge head of yours, that you’re just not as special as you think?”

”Oh, I am _definitely_ as special as I think, darling,” she purrs, ruffling Wonwoo’s hair despite being several inches shorter than him.

”Are you like, Jeonghan’s long lost female twin?” he asks, completely serious. He ignores the sensinle part of his brain flashing warning signs of very potential alcohol poisoning as he takes another big swig of whatever concoction Jihoon thrust into his hand at the start of the evening.

“Nope. You would know that if you bothered to learn my name instead of being all heart-eyes at Mingyu 24/7 - it’s  _Park_ Areum, by the way. Not Yoon.”

"Okay, fine, I admit I may have a liiiiiittle, itty-bitty, teeny-weeny crush on him," Wonwoo confesses, not confident in 80% of the shit currently spewing out of his huge fucking mouth, "but, I'm not like, you know -" he makes vague, wide, waving hand motions, during which he has to swing an arm around the petite girl to stop himself from tripping over his own feet, "-  _obsessed_ , jeez."

Areum smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Oh really? Then I guess you won't be pleased to know that Mingyu is stalking over to us right this minute with a look on his face that suggests he's about to commit murder."

"Huh -"

"Wonwoo, what are you doing?" Mingyu says, voice tight. Wonwoo feels large hands clamp down on his shoulders. He cranes his neck backwards to see Mingyu looking slightly irked, face coloured a deep red, violet and electric blue kaleidoscope by the strobe lights. Then his eyes meet with Areum's and those handsome brows furrow. "Who's this?"

He's clearly had too much to drink. Maybe even more than Wonwoo. Mingyu would never be so rude to someone he just met. Hell, he cried for 5 minutes the other day because he felt bad for stepping on a bee _("They're going_ extinct _, Wonwoo! It didn't even do anything wrong - it was just buzzing around and making an invaluable contribution to the earth's eco system like the sweet, selfless creature it is!_ _I'm a murderer!")._

" _This_ has a name, asshole, and it's Park Areum. Not that anyone cares."

Mingyu doesn't respond, his arms tense as they tug Wonwoo to his side, and the latter wonders what the fuck is going on.

"Okay, chill out, big guy, you can stop trying to laser-vision me to death," Areum crosses her arms, somehow managing to look down her nose at Mingyu despite being over a head shorter than him. "I'm gonna leave now, since you two clearly have some...issues to resolve." She flips her hair and makes to saunter off, but not before winking at Wonwoo over her shoulder and mouthing something he doesn't quite catch.

Mingyu still doesn't utter even a syllable as he pulls Wonwoo along by the wrist through the frenzied mass and out of the back door. He struggles to keep up, barely seeing straight due to his now steadily-pounding head and the dizzying smear of colour and sound as they race past everyone.

They enter a small storage room, crammed with crates of shiny bits of decoration and complicated-looking technical equipment. The room (more like closet) is dark and claustrophobically small and Mingyu is claustrophobically tall and drunk or not, Wonwoo still feels his breath hitch, his face warm and his heartbeat pick up pace as their limbs brush together clumsily in the cramped space.

"Are you gonna tell me why you dragged me into a live burial tomb or are you just gonna make me stay here until I suffocate to death?" Wonwoo asks, slurring. "Why are you so _mad_? So cranky tonight, Gyu. So, so mean.” He prods a bony index finger into the centre of Mingyu’s chest. “I'm s'posed to be the grumpy one, 'member?"

He cocks his head when he still doesn't elicit any response, and finds Mingyu staring at him in a way he's never quite done before. A narrow bar of shifting light peeks through the door crack, painting a single bright stripe over one side of Mingyu's face and making his eyelashes glow amber. Wonwoo's close enough to count every strand, his throat suddenly undbearably parched.

The taller shakes his head, breathing the longest sigh Wonwoo's ever witnessed through his nostrils. "I - I don't _know_. You're right, I'm acting like a fucking hothead."

"Yep," Wonwoo nods, up and down, up and down.

"It's just - It makes me so _mad_ , you know? When I saw someone being so - so familiar with you," Mingyu grounds out.

Wonwoo's eyes widen to saucers, incredulous. He wonders if alcohol affects the sense of hearing too. Then he grins like a Cheshire Cat, coy, challenging, swaying from side to side. All the things he doesn't know how to be when he's sober and stiff and awkward. "Aww, are you a little  _jealous_ , Gyu?"

"Of course I am! You don't just go around - _touching_ people like that. Especially not people you've just met!"

A sharp point of focus pierces through his foggy veil of drunkenness, just for a split second. The words come out on their own, trembling, tentative: "You never seemed to care when it was with the guys."

A pause. A huff. A nervous chuckle, and then, "Yeah - I mean, yeah, but they're our friends too, you know? But that random girl - the way she acted as though she could just - run her hands all over you," Mingyu mutters, anger rising again at just picturing the scene as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I mean, I kinda understand how you used to feel about my old girlfriends now. Maybe it's a best friend thing, like we've been attached at the hip for so long we can't help but jump at any threat to our closeness," he continues to reason, but the longer he rambles the less convinced he sounds.

For long, long while, Wonwoo says nothing, to the point that Mingyu nearly checks whether he's knocked out cold by now.

Then his response is so quiet he wonders if he even said it out loud at all.

"Friends don't feel that way about each other."

Before many years of doubt and self-restraint can drag him back into that shadowy place of silent loving, Wonwoo musters the last drop of his rapidly draining courage and leans in.

A surprised noise escapes from Mingyu as their lips meet, yet to Wonwoo's utter shock (and delight) his mouth opens up almost immediately, kissing him back with an unexpected amount of passion. His lips are slick and slightly chapped and fit just perfectly against Wonwoo's own, tongue soon sweeping in without Wonwoo even registering until he feels a delicious, wet heat enter his mouth. Mingyu presses him into the wall with force, their chests clattering atop one another like puzzle pieces locking in place.

He's floating on a high, head buzzing in much more confusion and bliss than any alcohol or caffeine could produce. Wonwoo forgets the lack of air, the pitch black, the racuous chorus just one a few metres away. He can't think about anything except the sensation of Mingyu's hands, those gorgeous tanned fingers raking through his hair and stroking the back of his neck and slipping down his shirt, Wonwoo reciprocating every action with equal fervor, and o _h god, is this real, is this_ _even actually happening, this better not some embarrassing wet dream that's gonna wake him up at the best moment just to a be a bitch_ -

A huge sonic boom pulsates through the entire building, jolting the two of them apart. 

"What the...?" Mingyu croaks, voice still hoarse from kissing Wonwoo nonstop.

"SPEAKER'S BUST, GUYS!" Seungcheol shouts over the top of the chaos, before he screeches at a suddenly much louder and higher tone, "SOONYOUNG AND SEOKMIN, IF YOU DON'T COME AND EXPLAIN YOURSELVES RIGHT NOW -"

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes and makes a grab at Mingyu's collar on instinct, eager to resume - well, whatever it is that just blazed to life between them just now - except Mingyu pulls away, his expression gone from lustful to...unreadable.

_Oh god, he regrets it. Of course he'd regret it, you massive fucking idiot. He's as straight as they come._

His heart won't stop slamming itself against his ribcage, over and over, as if it wants to die almost as much as Wonwoo desperately does right now.

"Wonwoo." 

The way Mingyu whispers his name, as though addressing a wounded animal about to be put down, makes Wonwoo's heart stop beating altogether.

Instead, it glazes over. Turns bleached and brittle and porcelain.

"This - this is just a misunderstanding, right?"

The first crack starts to form.

"A drunken accident."

A second split, deeper than the first.

_He wants nothing to do with me anymore._

"Because we were both - wasted out of our minds. Just some spur-of-the-moment shit, yeah?"

The third time, the words shatter straight through. Shards go flying.

_He hates me._

Mingyu swallows his own shuddering, dry breath, mouth still glossy at the edges. His eyes are averted, dodging Wonwoo's stunned gaze.

_He hates me._

"I need to go - um, I think I hear Seungcheol calling for me." At least he has the decency to feign a phantom claim for help as he yells to no one in particular, "Hold on, I'm coming!"

Wonwoo continues to stare wordlessly at Mingyu's fleeing back, knuckles stark white as they grip the door handle. "You know, extra muscle to lug around around the heavy equipment and stuff. It's kinda the only thing I'm good for.

I - I'll see you later, okay? Get some rest."

Without even waiting for vocal confirmation, Mingyu slips out of the door so that it bangs shut, the slam harmonising with the final snap of his heart breaking clean in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DONT KNOW OKaY IM WRITING THIS AT 5 IN THE MORNING HERE JUST ACCEPT THIS SHITTY CLICHE DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE AND DEAL WITH THE FACT THAT WONWOO WILL NEVER BE HAPPY HAHAHWHHFBD
> 
> (ALSO IM AWARE WONWOO IS A LIMP SPINELESS NOODLE AND MINGYU IS KIND OF AN INDECISIVE AND INSENSITIVE ASSHOLE IN THIS OK I MADE THEM LIKE THIS ON pOrpOIsE SO THAT HE CAN GET VERBALLY BITCH SLAPPED WHEN WONWOO FINALLY GOES OFF AND CALLS HIM OUT ON HIS BS LATER ON POWER BOTTOM FTW!!!)


End file.
